COTFS - Scion

Scion Redux - In the Beginning(Part 1)

9

AUG/11

(First session log retroactively written ahoy!)

Father, the man in the sky, had requested that I travel to America to participate in some inter-Pantheon relations proceedings. Of course, he forgets that I can’t just take time off of work anytime I want, but I’ve got enough pull with the higher-ups fortunately. Somehow, Tucker and four of my other fellow detectives managed to persuade chief into letting them collect on their vacation days, and soon we were all flying on a single plane, on a row of aisle seats, to the infamous Sin city.

Sasaki Ami, Scion of Amaterasu, entered the Greasy Spoon, an aptly named greasy spoon, and took her seat in a corner booth far from the entrance. She ordered the only tea on the menu, black, and waited for a sign to point her in the right direction - aside from telling her to go to the Greasy Spoon in Vegas, Amaterasu didn’t really provide any more information. Fate obliged, however, and in stepped Hakon Erickson, who assumed the only customer in this nearly empty diner would be one of the Scions he was supposed to rendezvous with. As the two sat silently across from each other, Alexander Cross walked in with messenger bag at the side and a long somethin’ swaddled in all-covering cloth. Before the door could shut, Guo Yu pushed his way in, and soon all four Scions were seated at the booth, awkward as hell. As Yu tried to drink from his flask without drawing attention by slowly bringing the neck to his lips, a man walked in with a briefcase, casually ordering the diner’s daily special as he took his seat at the bar. He was rather old, balding, and had quite a beer belly; his trench coat was slightly tattered and frayed at the ends, and sported numerous unappealing dark spots. Our heroes stared at him silently as he ate, until he finished with a large belch, at which point he began to make his way towards the Scions’ booth, briefcase in hand. He explained that he was here to simply tell them to go to the Wynn casino, and produced a quartet of pins, each distinct in design - corresponding to each Scion’s pantheon. After distributing them to the appropriate Scions, he left without another word, and the Scions were left to fend for themselves. Having been given an objective, the group found little need to stick together for the moment, and left via their own means of transportation. They all needed sleep for the inevitably eventful day ahead of them.